Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World-Chapter 311 - Aelric’s Intro

The afternoon corridor hummed with the lazy energy of students transitioning between classes. Aelric moved through it like a ghost, his blonde hair catching the golden light filtering through the high windows.

His calm, observant gaze rarely lifted from the notebook clutched in his hands, fingers tracing along the cramped theoretical annotations as he walked.

Several female students noticed his passage. They always did.

"Hi, Aelric!" one called out, her voice pitched deliberately high and sweet.

She leaned against the wall with exaggerated casualness, her uniform slightly loosened at the collar.

Another giggled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "You’re always so focused. Want to take a break with us?"

Aelric offered a polite nod—nothing more. His lips curved into a calm, distant smile that was friendly enough to avoid rudeness but cold enough to discourage further attempts.

He continued walking, his eyes already drifting back to the notebook.

"Nessa, you made a mistake here," he said softly, not looking up as the woman appeared beside him. His finger traced a line of text, pointing out the specific error. "See? The energy channels don’t branch uniformly. There’s a cascading pattern that you missed."

Nessa was a striking woman—the kind whose beauty had matured into something far more compelling than youth alone could offer.

Her body carried a fullness that spoke of living well and long—thick curves that filled her academy robes with generous proportions.

Her breasts were substantial, heavy and prominent, seeming to claim a major portion of her body weight even in her vital maturity; they strained gently against the fabric with clear bra outlines pressing through, their soft swell evident with every breath, drawing the eye without effort.

Her hips were wide and commanding, broader than her thighs, which pressed outward in a way that stretched her skirt taut enough to hint at the shape of her panties beneath—subtle outlines that teased with each sway.

They moved naturally as she walked, each motion carrying an unconscious sensuality born from complete comfort in her own skin.

She was, in every way, maternal—yet there was an undercurrent of something else beneath that nurturing exterior—a fucking young but maturely hot body.

She pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket without comment, reaching up to gently dab at a thin line of blood at the corner of Aelric’s mouth. Her movements were careful, practiced, carrying the weight of someone who’d tended to wounds and worries countless times before.

"Here," she said simply, pressing a small pouch of juice into his free hand. "Drink, Aelric. Your body needs replenishment after training."

Aelric accepted it without protest—something about her tone made compliance feel natural, even necessary.

He took a long sip, the cool liquid sliding down his throat, while his other hand continued to annotate the notebook with precise, economical strokes of his pen.

They walked in companionable silence as they approached the library’s exterior balcony.

The late afternoon sun painted everything gold and amber, and Aelric finally closed the notebook, handing it back to Nessa with quiet care.

"How about we continue this tomorrow?" he suggested, his blonde eyes meeting hers for just a moment. "I need to cross-reference this with the cultivation texts inside, but your theories are sound. Once I verify them against the primary sources, we can map out the complete framework."

Nessa nodded, accepting the notebook and tucking it against her chest.

For a moment, something soft and uncertain flickered across her mature features. "I’m sorry for overwhelming you with all that information," she said, her voice carrying a note of genuine concern. "You must be exhausted hearing me ramble on."

"I could never be exhausted hearing your inquiries, Nessa," Aelric replied, and there was something in his tone that suggested he meant it deeply. "Your questions push me to think deeper. They matter."

Something warm bloomed across her face at those words.

She reached up, her hand moving with familiar affection to ruffle his blonde hair—a gesture that was entirely maternal, yet lingered just a fraction too long. Her thick fingers were gentle, tender, before she withdrew them.

"Then I’ll see you tomorrow," she said softly.

She turned to leave, her body swaying as she walked, the generous curve of her hips visible beneath her tight skirts with each step.

Aelric watched her go, feeling a strange warmth in his chest—something between gratitude and something more, something natural that he felt from her usual habits.

’Haah... you are making it hard for me to choose, Nessa.’ He turned toward the balcony, intending to spend a quiet moment collecting his thoughts before heading back inside to decide if he should accept the confession he got yesterday or consider the others among the women around him.

A total of seven women with whom he had one way or another found himself connected, and rejecting any one of them would not help as all of them seemed kind to him.

’Elana can help me in taking my rightful position but Nessa...’

That’s when he saw them.

Three figures stood silhouetted against the late sunlight, and Aelric’s entire body went rigid.

The blonde-haired woman at the center was unmistakable—Seria.

Her face still bore faint bruising from an earlier encounter, and she gripped an envelope. Her two companions flanked her like watchdogs, their expressions hostile and eager.

Aelric’s gaze narrowed, his posture shifting from relaxed to alert in a single breath.

"What are you doing here, sister?" His voice was level, but there was an edge underneath—the careful courtesy of someone speaking to family while maintaining absolute distance.

Seria’s mouth twitched. Her red eyes flashed with barely contained fury. "Oh, so you recognize me? And here I was thinking why that name pissed me off even more... not that it’s worth remembering someone like you."

"You, as the branch clan’s insect—even illegitimate at that—should have kept your mouth shut in this academy," she spat, her voice dropping to something venomous. "Didn’t your mother tell you to lay low?"

"I did enroll in Class F," Aelric replied calmly, though his hands had begun to curl into fists. "I’m drawing no attention."

"Yes, you did," Seria hissed, her fists clenching. "But apparently, that pathetic name of yours coming from those bitches... you are dead now, Aelric."

Before Aelric could respond, one of her companions lunged forward, her fist driving toward his face with clear murderous intent.

Aelric sidestepped with fluid grace, his body moving on pure instinct. The second companion pivoted, launching a kick that was clearly meant to take his head clean off.

He caught it crosshanded, feeling the impact reverberate up his arms. His feet slid backward across the stone, friction burning through his shoes.

When he stabilized, he raised a hand.

"It’s not allowed to fight in the hallway," he said, his tone carrying genuine authority. "We can take this to the training ground if you want to settle it properly."

"Rules are for people like you," Seria spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "Not those who make them."

She stepped forward, drawing her arm back for another strike—

A fist appeared from nowhere.

It intercepted Seria’s punch with a resonant crack of knuckles meeting knuckles.

The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, and Seria’s eyes went impossibly wide as she realized what had happened.

A woman stood between them, and she was absolutely breathtaking in a way that commanded immediate, involuntary attention.

Her skin was porcelain white—almost luminescent in its purity. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun at the back of her head, and she wore a pair of violet-tinted goggles that framed sharp, intelligent violet eyes. Those eyes blinked slowly, taking in the scene with cold, analytical assessment.

Her uniform was academy faculty—crisp, professional, perfectly tailored. Her white shirt strained subtly against the generous swell of her breasts, the fabric pulling taut across the substantial curve.

The top buttons were left undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of milky-white cleavage that caught and held the afternoon light.

Her pencil skirt hugged her hips and thighs with precision, the fabric stretching across curves that suggested she possessed both strength and femininity in equal measure.

As she shifted her weight, the skirt rode up slightly, revealing the full, muscular length of her thighs.

"What’s impressive about hitting someone like you?" the woman said, her voice carrying the kind of amused contempt that suggested she found the entire situation hilarious as her man was impressed by seeing this woman getting beaten?

Seria’s eyes narrowed, her mouth opening to respond—

"Whatever, maybe I can try that too..." The woman’s fist struck like divine judgment, driving directly into Seria’s solar plexus with surgical precision and devastating force.

Seria’s body convulsed, all the air driven from her lungs in a strangled gasp.

"Urgh... cough..." Blood sprayed from between her lips as she doubled over, her knees hitting the stone. Her hands crossed over her abdomen as she coughed, gagging on copper and bile.

It was déjà vu—the same sensation as Rururu’s earlier assault, except this blow carried a different kind of violation.

This was too personal.

The other two companions immediately moved to retaliate, their forms shifting into aggressive stances.

"Be alert! Let me help," Aelric called, launching into motion without hesitation.

He engaged the two remaining attackers with calculated precision, his movements efficient and controlled.

He wasn’t trying to kill them—just to neutralize.

A deflection here, a precise strike to the nerve cluster there, a lock that robbed them of mobility. Within moments, both were immobilized on the ground, gasping and unable to move.

Breathing only slightly harder than before, Aelric straightened and turned toward the woman who’d intervened.

"Um..." he started, his blonde eyes meeting those violet ones with genuine confusion. "You are...?"

The woman tilted her head slightly, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I am your new professor," she said, her voice carrying multiple layers of meaning. "Fairy Yu Xiang."